Punching Bag
by Cheetos234
Summary: The capital is selfish. Haymitch has always thought this though.


**This is just a small Hunger Games one-shot. Nothng big, but please enjoy. This takes place on the train going to the Quarter Quell. I haven't read the books in a while so some things may not be accurate.**

…**...**

Gey seam eyes gazed a glare upon the peacekeepers that guarded the train entrance. The host of the grey eyes hated them nearly as much as anything for they had helped ill the only thing that he had lived for when he participating in the games And people wonder why he drinks.

After that little event, he drank himself numb into a state of semi-hybernation and still does. But there was one thing that he could keep ahold of. Haymitch was aware enough to keep Peeta and Katniss alive. He liked them for an odd reason. Maybe it was because they both had something that was rare these days. Hope. Love. Will. But of course, he would never say anything.

Now they both have to compete in the Quarter Quell. Himself was called upon the stage, but naturally, Peeta voleenteered. Haymitch mentally growled at the memory. Another bad memory. He knew…actually they knew that President Snow was mad. That wasn't good. Only Haymitch would know that when he had won and come home to a dead little brother and the love of his life. That was the start of his newly drunken state. It numbed the pain for a while, but in the mornings it had all ccome back to hm in a painful rush.

"Haymitch!" Peeta's voice sliced through hs thoughts.

The older man looked up at the blue eyed boy with a glare. "Hmm?"

"Come on, we got to go…it's time."

With a curse under his breath, he burly man stood and followed the tributes.

…

As soon as the trio stepped through the entrance, Effie had came out of nowhere it seems as she wrapped her slender painted arms aroung both of the tributes, almost conforting, yet congradulating them at the same time. 'Oh yes. He kids get to go nto the games for a second time, because the games are so much fun.' Haymitch thought bitterly in disgust. His grey voids flickered to the eccentric lady, but quickly placed a smirk amongst his lips as the lady quickly put her arms down.

"Hmm. Well lets get going then. Gotta fill up for your interview tomorrow," Effie replied as she smiled and lead them into a room full of pastries and wine. Snacks that could feed all of district 12 for at least a week. Selfish capital. But other than the stacks and plates of food, the thing that stuck out of the small room was none other than Game- maker Plutarch Heavensbee. He was sitting uptight in 'Haymitch's chair', the white leathery one, as he drank some orange juava juice most likely. Those hidioues sparkly eye lashes fluttered as they covered his gaze toward the four before him.

"You're a little late, but its quite alright." He motioned for the two tribute to have a seat at the table before him.

Katniss and Peeta sat down slowly o most likely be threatened once more, while Haymitch decided to help himself to some of those mouth watering pastries.

The drunk only heard a few things as the conversation went on. He kept unuasaully quiet as he stuff his mouth with some crosant that hit the spot fairly good. Weird, he didn't like crosants much. He would find out about the conversation later. He always did. By the looks of it, Katniss and Peeta were confused, but placed with serious exspressions. Oh yes. He would find out.

After downng some of that orange stuff that he had no clue of, he felt the pressure of eyesupon him. With this, Haymitch turned around with a plate of his crosants. "What?"

"Isnt that right, Haymitch? Play the games right. Fair?" The man laughed annoying as he stroked his beared.

The next thing that had happened in the little pastry room was both shocking and amusing to Haymitch as his bawled up fst connected witht eh Game-maker's face. The target flew back as the unspuspecting fist connected with hs cheek that send him flying towards the bread table. The panted man looked up dazed at the estranged drunk whom was coming after him again.

Haymtch moved past Katniss as he rose his fist to throw another punch till Peeta and some peacekeeper yanked him back and slammed him against the wall.

Silence.

Everything was silent ecept for the gamemaker whom was standing up dizzily staring in shock at the drunk. Haymitch lunged at the shaking game-maker once more only to be pulled back by the peacekeeper. But Plutarch stumbled back and staggered out the door quickly n fear of being hit again.

All eyes were upon Haymitch whose face was jammed to the wall. "Let go of me! Im okay. Damn!"

"That will ball." Effie's shrill voice was heard and Haymitch was released. Even as the peacekeeper left, their disbelieving eyes we still upon him.

Haymitch simply shrugged and picked up the wine upon the glass table in the center. He took a long swallow that burned his throat, not that he cared, then looked back at the pairs of eyes and shrugged once more. "Eh….He was in my seat."

With this, the older man walked out the door, a wine bottle in hand as he left the staring eyes behind.

…...

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